


Nesting

by domorethings



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Egg Laying, Goblins have swiss army genitals, Honestly if the first few tags put you off the rest of this fic isn't going to change your mind, M/M, Magic used for sexy purposes, Multi, Oviposition, Polyamory, Trans Male Character, Trans Oscar - Freeform, i don't make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27366628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domorethings/pseuds/domorethings
Summary: Zolf, Oscar and Grizzop prepare to welcome their clutch.
Relationships: Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	Nesting

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely the fault of WIR and I will take only the barest responsibility.

Grizzop's hand spans over one side of Oscar's stomach, admiring the way he can press and make the bulk of his belly move into Zolf's hand on the other side. 

Oscar sighs, shifting and throwing a hand over his eyes. “It's all very well you getting all tactile. You don't have to deal with the side effects.”

Zolf snickers softly, moving up the bed to settle beside Oscar's shoulders, gently easing the man's head to rest in his lap. As soon as he's got his fingers carding through Oscar's hair, the man gives a soft whine.

“S'my clutch.” Grizzop murmurs, setting his weight over Oscar's thigh and placing both hands on the man's stomach. “Sorry if I'm a bit enamoured with how you look carrying them.”

Oscar tips his head back, smiling up at Zolf. “You're no help.”

With a soft scoff, Zolf tugs on Oscar's hair. “You don't need help.”

Grizzop leans in, dragging the line of his teeth over Oscar's stomach, down, down until his head is between the man's legs. “He's right. Look how wet you are, we barely touched you.”

Oscar shifts, trying so hard to maintain a sense of decorum and failing miserably. “Try carrying a clutch before you judge.”

Grizzop beams, all teeth and wicked pleasure. “Next time.” He says, before ducking his head and putting his tongue to much better use. 

\---

Oscar’s been anxious like this for days now, pacing the house and looking like he’s torn between nesting and bolting.

Zolf’s taken to shadowing him, there whenever he turns around and looks a little lost. 

Grizzop has taken to making a little birthing den.

He doesn’t remember much of what they’re supposed to be like, but with Wilde’s increasing tactility and tendency to take deep inhales of Zolf’s throat when Grizzop is going down on him, he figures a couple of Zolf’s sweaters and the blanket from the back of the couch will help.

He doesn’t expect Wilde to dive into it like a man possessed the moment he shows it off. Neither does Grizzop expect the sharp intake of breath and Oscar clutching at his stomach.

“Ah fuck. Zolf! I think it’s starting!”

He is, apparently, a fucking awful expectant parent. 

Zolf meanwhile takes it in his stride with so much confidence that Grizzop feels a little better about losing his cool. While he sits beside Oscar and smooths a trembling hand over the man’s forehead, Zolf settles at the centre of the action, narrating the whole experience with tender care.

The pinch in Oscar’s brow fades, and Grizzop looks down to see Zolf’s hands alight with an ethereal glow as they pass over Oscar’s stomach. Grizzop glances back in time to see the pained flush across his cheeks turn to something else, the anxious little moans turn downright filthy.

“Is this… y’know. Right?”

Zolf looks up at his question, flushing himself at the lurid tone of Oscar’s cries. “Guess so. If it helps?”

Grizzop goes from fretting over Oscar’s pain to petting him, trailing a hand over his chest and plucking claws at the man’s nipple while Zolf coos gentle encouragement, pumping light and energy into the man’s body.

Oscar trembles, clutching at Grizzop’s forearm and pulling him down for a kiss that’s more tongue and gasping that anything productive, but it gets him through the first of the eggs and apparently it’s all downhill from there.

“You’re doing great Oscar.” Zolf says in a gasping, gruff voice that makes Grizzop shudder. “Keep going love.”

Oscar shudders through the praise, arching through another egg passing out of him and then a second, his entire body shaking with the force of his arousal. Zolf takes a breath to arrange the eggs carefully and it makes Oscar stiffen up again. 

“No, no more of that Zolf, _please_.”

Zolf’s powers return full force, along with a smirk from the dwarf. “Greedy.”

Oscar gives a soft laugh that breaks around another moan, Zolf using gentle touches to investigate how many eggs remain. 

Grizzop is enraptured, doesn’t dare look at the eggs themselves in case he completely loses his mind. Watching Zolf be competent and Oscar be absolutely ravaged by the pleasure of bringing their clutch into the world makes him vibrate with emotion, hungry hands touching every part of Oscar that he can.

“You’re incredible.” He breathes, to both of them.

Oscar blinks up at him through wet eyes, his grin stretching broad across his face. “They’re almost here.”

“One more, Oscar. You can do it.”

Oscar wails through it, his voice breaking around some sort of song as the final egg joins its clutch on the bed. Grizzop kisses him deeply as he pants and shivers and then moves lightning fast to the eggs, checking them over with an instinctive care that Zolf leaves entirely up to him. 

By the time he’s set them all in the little warm space they’ve set aside with a parents’ care (and isn’t that a fucking weird thought), he finds Zolf’s tidied up Oscar and left him napping.

It’s easy to drag his lover back to Zolf’s bedroom and beg attention for how riled up he’s been since Oscar’s first moan. Zolf’s fingers wrap around his cock and dip into his core and Zolf presses Dwarvish curses into his throat at how slick he is.

“About to get a lot louder around here.” Zolf says after he’s come twice, cleaning up the frankly ridiculous mess he’s made with as much tender care as Zolf showed Oscar.

Grizzop just grins.


End file.
